


Bring Him Back

by lilsadsourwolf



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boyd and Erica are alive, Fear, Lydia is BAMF, M/M, Nightmares, Pain, Sad Stiles, Self Harm References, derek is weird, derek saves the day, im sorry, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsadsourwolf/pseuds/lilsadsourwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has nightmares. Nobody seems to be able to help him. Except Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Him Back

**Author's Note:**

> Erica and Boyd are alive. There's not much plot I guess? It's my first one so. I tried to do it as best as I could. Gimme constructive feedback?

It had taken a while for anyone to notice, which was surprising in its own right. The pack was usually more observant when it came to each other, especially the werewolves. They’re supposed to notice everything, right? But then again, this was Stiles. He’d never been anything other than an enigma and so far only Scott had been able to have a faint clue about Stiles. But even he didn’t understand Stiles sometimes. So when everyone turned to him for answers and got nothing, they realised the problem was worse than they’d first thought. It was so obvious after they’d fit the pieces together.

Stiles was unstable.

He hadn’t been sleeping. The pale skin, dark shadows under his eyes, the hollow cheeks and the delayed reactions should have clued them in right away. He also hadn’t been eating. His clothes hung off his body like he’d shrunk in size. He jumped at loud noises, whimpered when anyone moved too fast and cringed if someone reached towards him without warning. It was Lydia who’d helped them figure it out when she came home from visiting Jackson and all but yelled at them.

"He’s the vision of death. How could you not notice? I thought you all had some common sense." She’s seethed, exasperation and concern coming off her in waves. It was no secret that after all the supernatural crap they’d been through, the two brainiest pack members had become thick as thieves. Stiles got over his crush, realised he liked dick and became her gay best friend with high brain powers. And everyone knew that if Lydia was concerned, it was bad and you left her alone. She cared about everyone in the pack, but Stiles was at the top of her list.

She sat Stiles down at the loft one day, eyeing him carefully. She had managed to threaten everyone into leaving them alone. She’d even managed to threaten Derek out of his own loft. They weren’t even allowed to be within hearing distance and trust me, I’ll know. 

Stiles looked even worse than he had before. He was sitting rigidly on the sofa, leaning forward as though he was ready to bolt. His entire body thrummed with energy but he was still, only his fingers twitching. His eyes flicked over the loft, noticing every escape route possible. His eyes were dead looking, there was no spark in them. His mouth moved silently and Lydia struggled to read the words he was silently saying. It’s not even in English. She winced when Stiles’ fingers trailed over a bandage under his sleeves. There was nothing she could do, she wasn’t magic but she’d rather rot in hell - touch wood - than have Stiles hurting. She wondered if she could convince Derek to help, to tell Stiles how he truly felt about the whiskey-eyed boy. It would be futile, Derek was almost as stubborn as she and Stiles were.

"Stiles? Stiles can you hear me?" She spoke softly but still managed to spook him if the hitch in his breathing was any indication. She reached for his arm slowly but he hissed and jerked away, cradling his arms to his chest. She wasn’t a werewolf, but even she could taste the pain and fear radiating from him. She felt like crying at the sheer force of it. What was wrong with him?

"Nemeton." Stiles spat out between clenched teeth. She’d spoken aloud. It stumped her, she always had control but somehow Stiles could always break that.

It made so much more sense and she huffed. It was so obvious. After being dead for sixteen hours to save his dad, Deaton had said there would be darkness around his heart. 

"What’s happened because of it?"

He smiled emptily and her heart clenched, “Nightmares.” He paused and looked at her, “Is this one? If it is, you’re going to die soon.” 

Her heart broke at the pain in his voice and she knew they had to help.

Derek’s glad he isn’t put on the “Babysitting Stiles” rota. First of all, why do they even need a rota? Stiles was doing fine, right? Just because he was less annoying, less obnoxious and is less of a sarcastic pain in Derek’s ass, doesn’t mean there was something wrong with the teenager. Well, that’s what he was telling himself. Stiles had somehow managed to worm his way into Derek’s heart like he probably did with everyone, so of course he noticed when Stiles wasn’t Stiles. He just didn’t show it. Lydia gave him the evil eye when Derek seemed fine with not babysitting Stiles. He didn’t want to deal with the drama queen that Stiles was. He was a big boy, he was pretty sure Stiles could handle a couple of nightmares.

Of course, it wasn’t just a couple of nightmares. It never is in this town.

Scott was the first on the rota. Everyone was shocked when Stiles didn’t even react to being told he was being babysat. He didn’t even look like he was listening. But when Scott checked in the next day it was clear that something was horribly wrong. He looked fucking terrified, shaking and tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He was scared for his best friend, his brother. But he wouldn’t speak a word of the night to anyone, he point blank refused. He just curled up on the sofa and whimpered till he fell asleep.

The same happened with Eric, Allison, Lydia and fuck, even Boyd couldn’t keep his calm composure after babysitting Stiles. But they don’t break, they just teeter on the edges. It’s Isaac that breaks after his first night. Everyone knew Isaac was a ‘Sensitive’. Something that is tuned into people’s emotions. Isaac broke down, crying and whimpering. There had to be a pack puppy pile to comfort him. Derek stood in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Stiles was breaking the pack without even knowing it.

It went on for a few weeks while Derek slowly collected details on what went on at Stiles’ house during the night. If Derek didn’t know better, he would have said it was exaggerated and outrageous. But he did know better. From what he could gather, Stiles’ nightmares weren’t just nightmares. Not your average falling to the ground and waking up before you hit the cement kind anyway. He knew it was because he, Scott and Allison had sacrificed themselves to save their parents. But he didn’t understand why Stiles was the only one suffering. Obviously neither did they because they felt horribly guilty every time they saw Stiles. He consulted Deaton, who said it was because Stiles was the spark. Stiles’ spark was much more powerful than it should be, and it was uncontrolled, so the Nemeton took advantage. 

He managed to piece together what made it so bad for Stiles. Nobody knew what the nightmares were about and nobody dared to ask. Stiles would scream himself awake and scratch at his wrists and legs and neck with blunt human nails. It took a while before anyone could say that Stiles’ nails were cutting into his skin so deep he’d been admitted to hospital a few times. He always had a panic attack after he stopped screaming, an it only got worse if someone tried to touch him. Scott was the first to figure that out. He would thrash and kick and cry until he wore himself out. Of course, he wouldn't be able to sleep the rest of the night. He’d stare at the wall until morning, letting his dad clean up fresh blood. It was stressing the Sheriff out. It was stressing the pack out.

So one night Derek took over from Isaac. It had been getting to much for the sensitive wolf and although he’d never been particularly close with Stiles, the overwhelming sense of guilt he felt for not being able to help was crushing him. Derek took over but told him that no matter what the circumstances, not to tell Lydia. Everyone, even Derek, was afraid of the red-headed banshee.

So of course, with Derek’s luck, he witnesses the worst nightmare so far. 

He’d been sitting comfortably in the computer chair for an hour, keeping an eye on Stiles’ sleeping form. Derek knew that the way Stiles was sleeping was wrong. He was rigid, arms by his sides and legs shut. He knew Stiles usually slept like a starfish, spread out until his limbs hung off the edge of the bed. This was wrong. 

He was drifting off to sleep when it happened. Stiles whimpered and bolted out the bed, curling into the corner and pulling his knees up to his chest. He was clutching at his hair, pulling it hard. Derek stood up, eyeing the bandages that covered Stiles’ arms, his neck and his chest. It was horrible. Stiles panicked. He opened his mouth and screamed. Derek had to cover his ears as he fell to his knees, growling in pain. His scream was loud. Louder than Lydia’s, which should have been impossible. Lydia was a banshee, Stiles was a human. Still screaming, Stiles tore at the bandages, ripping them off and digging into his skin. Derek could see how bad the cuts were now and his wolf whined. Fresh blood began spilling from Stiles’ skin and he sprung into action. He shouldn't touch Stiles, he knew this, but he couldn't help it.

He moved over to Stiles, eyes squinting as he braced the pain of Stiles’ ongoing scream. Derek was glad the Sheriff was working the night shift, although the entire town could probably hear Stiles screaming. He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ too skinny body and pulled him against his chest. He put his lips against the back of Stiles’s neck, a scratch free zone and he kissed the skin there over and over. It took a couple of minutes bit Stiles eventually calmed down. He twisted and looked at Derek, frowning slightly.

Derek blinked at Stiles, before gently kissing his lips. Stiles smiled and fell asleep.

Derek began staying with Stiles every night. The Sheriff didn't mind. His son didn't get better over night, but Derek was helping. Stiles was going to be fine.


End file.
